The Pirate Queen
by Stolen Key
Summary: England needs the help of the seas most fearsome woman. But will she help him and if she does, is everything as it seems? Rated M for language, certain scenes and a good bit of violence.
1. Chapter 1

"Captain, there's someone here to see you!" the Quartermaster called from outside her door.

"Whoever it is tell them to fuck off," Ireland groaned in reply and turned over in her bed, she was exhausted. They had just outrun the British Navy after almost two weeks of being chased through the Caribbean and she finally allowed herself time to relax. However that time was cut very short as she only got two hours of sleep before she was woken again.

"But Captain!" the quartermaster pleaded but was cut off by footsteps coming towards the door. "The Captain is busy, leave now or you'll regret it!" he barked at the intruder but was only met with silence. Suddenly the door slammed open and Ireland could hear a whimper coming from her Quartermaster followed by a thud, feigning sleep she huddled closer into the wooden wall of her quarters and reached for the pistol and knife under her pillow. She screwed her eyes shut as she waited for the intruder to make their way over to her bed. Loud footsteps reverberated through the air, chains and bits of metal clanging with every step. She heard a tsk as the footsteps stopped just beside her bed. Time seemed to freeze for a moment until the curtains surrounding her four poster bed was pulled back and Ireland felt the intruder kneel down on the bed. Slowly the intruder leaned over her until

"Rise and shine captain," the intruder mocked in a very English accent. He slowly started leaning over her until she could feel his breath on her ear. "What's wrong Ireland? Don't want to talk to your loving..." he didn't get to finish the sentence before Ireland pulled the blankets back and flipped them over. She sat over him straddling his torso, her pistol held under his chin. He stared wide eyed up at her in shock, his hands trapped under her legs.

"Long time no see, dear," she purred and leant down until their lips nearly met, staring half lidded into his eyes, her copper hair falling onto the pillow surrounding his head. "Now what's so important that you feel the need to wake me up?" she moved her hips to ground down on him. A feral grin played on her lips when she saw him shut his eyes and hold back a breath.

"Why yes I suppose," he gasped as Ireland ground her hips down on him again and forced himself to stare back into her grass green eyes, "It's been a while. I... need your assistance with a certain pirate we both know."

Ireland raised a brow at the request and sat back onto his hips, her knife still firmly placed at his neck.

"Continue," she ordered in a sultry whisper that sent a shiver up England's spine.

"Well," he started before gulping in a futile attempt to calm himself down. "I seem to have run into a problem with... would you stop that," he gasped after a slight pause and set Ireland with a firm glare. Cocking her head to the side she raised an eyebrow at him.

"Stop doing what?" she asked innocently.

"Stop," he sucked in a breath and gritted his teeth together. "Stop grinding your hips down."

"Oh? But I thought you liked it? You never complained before," she leant forward again to whisper the last bit in his ear.

England couldn't answer; instead he turned his head slightly away from her and shut his eyes as he attempted to gather his thoughts again.

"I need your help defeating Spain, he has encroached on some of my bays and it's making... trading difficult," he spat out in a single breath.

"Now why would I do that? Spain's a good friend to me, unlike someone I know," Ireland's eyes flashed dangerously and the knife was pressed tighter to England's throat.

"Because you're my wife and you have to remain faithful to your husband and do as he wishes," he retorted and smirked as she sat back once again. However instead of agreeing to help him for that reason alone England soon found the knife biting much deeper into his neck. He could feel blood trickle down his flesh onto the pillow. Looking up at Ireland his heart stopped to see her looking down at him, her face completely void of all emotions aside from anger. He would never admit it but in that moment he was more than a little terrified.

"Yes because this marriage means that much to you," Ireland said in a monotone voice. "So tell me, how is Portugal?"

England gasped at the mention of the country.

"What do you mean by that?"

"Do I really need to remind you?" disappointment seeped through her voice as she spoke but was quickly replaced by malice and anger once again. "Well, it appears that you have not been the most faithful. So tell me, how is she?"

England just glared at her refusing to dignify her question with an answer.

"Refusing to talk then? Well she must have been a good fuck if that's the case, but not that I care too much. Spain was a little pissy about it but I wouldn't worry about that if I were you."

"How did you find out?"

"Lets just say that word travels fast on the high seas, oh and apparently you have forgotten that I have spies everywhere and she is known for not hiding her... pleasures."

England swore under his breath at this but attempted to remain resolute in his cause to get Ireland to help him.

"Fine, yes I slept with her! Is that what you wanted to hear?" he shot at her.

"Aye it was, now tell me why you really need my help. If it was a matter as simple as you stated you should be able to deal with it by yourself. No, there's something much bigger afoot," despite the smirk she wore her eyes betrayed another emotion England couldn't place.

"Perceptive today aren't you, and here I thought chasing you across the seas would wear you out."

"No, if anything it made me much more aware of treachery when I see it," she snarled, "so what underhanded scheme are you plotting and why do you need me?"

England once again became aware of the knife digging into his skin and hissed at the pain.

"I need you to distract Spain while I get rid of his ships. He does not know that I have control over this port and I would like it to remain that way."

Ireland sat back for the final time and smiled widely at the information. For a split second England felt like he was almost safe but that brief thought was cut very short by her next words. "Then I suppose I could help you but first I need to get my sheets dirty." With that she ran the blade deep through his flesh and watched in sadistic pleasure as the blood poured from the wound and his eyes shot open. Within a minute he had stopped moving and Ireland stood up from the bed. "Shame, I liked those sheets."

She walked to the door and pulled it open happy to see that her crew had incapacitated England's crew.

"Men! Chain that man up and lock him in the brig!" she barked at them and stood back to allow four men past who followed her commands without question. "The rest of you, lock up his crew in his own ship and Travis!" The Quartermaster appeared in front of her, his head bandaged but otherwise he looked ready for action. "Take about fifteen men and take control of that ship. You are to sail beside this ship until our guest and I come to an agreement." Travis nodded and ran off to follow her orders. Turning back into her cabin she groaned at the sight of all the blood that was now being cleaned up. It was going to be another few hours before she could rest again.

Suddenly the sound of a door opening and clapping caught her attention.

"Very nicely done," a man called from behind her and started walking forward, his heavy boots echoing off the wood.

"Did you expect anything else?" she asked and turned to see green eyes boring into her own green orbs.

"No I really did not," the man closed the distance between them and pulled her around a corner to hide them from her crews sight.

_Chapter end..._

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Ok so for everyone who is following my other fics, I'm sorry for starting this without updating them. I promise to get back to them when I can.  
Anyways about this one, allow me to introduce pirate Ireland :D

Reviews and anything else are always appreciated ^_^

But seriously let me know what you think of the setup so far. I don't know where this is going just yet but it is leading to drama.


	2. Chapter 2

**Ok so no excuse why this is so late aside from the fact that I had absolutely no energy to write at all and when I tried to, I got stuck and ended up with crap.**

**Anyways one warning and that is Empire England state of mind. He's kind of a dick in this chapter but it's only because he's an empire and sees everything and everyone as property who should work for him.**

_**IrishMaid- Yep this is set between Hello America and Trial, Kisses and Reunions. Hopefully this chapter is good enough to make up for the wait and the next will be out a lot sooner ^^**_

**So yea, huge apology for it being so late and hope you guys like it ^^'**

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England groaned as he awoke. Suddenly like a bolt of lightning, pain rushed through his body and he gasped at the stabbing pain that seemed to permeate from his neck to the rest of his body. Prying his eyes open and through blurred vision he was able to make out a dank wooden cell with a heavy set of bars in place of a door. The brig, he though angrily. Forcing himself to ignore his pain he tried to stand up but instantly snapped back to the ground. Growling angrily to himself, he tried to rub his back where he collided with the wall but quickly realised his hands were bound roughly by rope that was looped through two holes in the wall. Shuffling to sit further upright he stilled another groan at the pain that flared in his shoulders before spreading his legs out in front of him and clearing his throat. He knew there had to be a guard just outside waiting to brings news of his wakening to Ireland.

"Oi, you can go get your bloody captain now you gormless pillock!" he called out and waited with a smug grin set on his face. Sure enough a few seconds later a balding man with a wooden leg appeared on the other side of the bars and gave him a firm glare. "Nice to see I have your attention, now go be of some use before I have my men storm this ship and have your head." With that the man laughed slightly and shook his head before disappearing leaving England to contemplate how long he had been out.

His throat burned like he had downed rum that had been lit of fire and the rest of his body was screaming at him everytime he moved a muscle. He was not amused at the shape he was in but knew that fortunately he would only need a good rest in a nice bed before he was back on his feet. The next thing he was aware of was footsteps coming towards his cell. Eventually after what felt like an age she appeared at the entrance to his cell, a smug smile set firmly on her face.

"What's the craic, lad? Not like your new room?" she mocked and took a pistol that was strapped to her waist into her hand then resting it on her shoulder.

"It's lovely really, I love the leaking ceiling the most," England replied snidely.

"I know, it's one of my favourite features here too," Ireland said with fake exuberance. "So did you have a nice rest? You looked really worn out after our activities, so I got the lads to put you in here until you woke up."

"Of course I am dear, but I do wish we could have had much more _fun_," England let the words roll off his tongue.

"Maybe later," Ireland winked at him before opening the cell door and sauntering in, her hips swaying with her step. "Now how about I get you out of those restraints and make sure you're a bit more comfortable." She leant down and gently lifted his chin up so that their lips were barely a centimetre apart, their eyes lingering on the others lips until they lifted them to make eye contact.

"That sounds like a marvellous idea," was all England was able to say before Ireland pressed their lips together. He gasped into the kiss and attempted to return it but Ireland ended it before he could do anything.

"Come along dear husband," she chided and walked off, disappearing out the door.

England stared after her, bewildered as to what happened when he finally noticed that the rope tying his wrists to the wall was cut. Scrambling to his feet, he stretched his neck and legs then slowly followed the Irishwoman. After traversing the ship, they found themselves back in Ireland's quarters. She led him through to the map room and pulled out a bottle of rum then poured them both generous glasses. Taking a sip she relaxed into a ruby cushioned oak chair and crossed her legs as she watched him take the chair opposite her.

"I suppose you're going to tell me you did away with my crew now, aren't you?" England asked after sampling the rum and deciding he quite liked the vintage.

Ireland raised a hand to cover her mouth and gasped in fake shock. "How could you think that of me?"

"Because that is what I would have done," England replied seriously and set her with a hard stare. He was done with the flirtatious talk, now he wanted answers.

"Ah but you're forgetting that I'm not you lad," Ireland smiled innocently back at him, taking pleasure in his annoyance.

"So where are they?"

"On your ship, after I had you thrown in the brig I had my men apprehend your ship and take your crew captive. I can take you to the upper deck to show you that your ship is sailing beside this one."

England watched her carefully and took another sip of his rum. As far as he could tell she wasn't lying, but he knew her better. This woman had double crossed him on plenty of occasions and although others could trust her freely, he couldn't.

"So," she continued, "what brought you here? I thought we lost your navy a while back."

"I need your help," England answered without a second of hesitation. He had originally intended to just ask her when he first got onto her ship, but seeing her sleeping proved too hard to resist. He had to exact a bit of revenge for troubles she caused him lately.

"And you couldn't have asked me that at the start," Ireland asked now genuinely surprised at the change in the conversation.

"I suppose I could have... but how could I resist? You appeared to be sleeping and completely defenceless and after how you betrayed me, I was bound to get irrational." England smirked to see Ireland quirk an eyebrow in confusion until eventually realisation fell across her face and she laughed slightly.

"You really are an eejit lad," she chuckled, "how many times have you _betrayed_ me? Cause I can hardly remember anymore, but I suppose that's the difference between us. For you, it's all about control." Her eyes flashed dangerously at him.

England ignored everything she said, choosing to focus on something she didn't say instead.

"You're not denying it," he clicked his tongue in annoyance. Deep down he hoped it was a rumour, now though, it appears like it wasn't.

"Denying what?" she needed him to spell it out. She needed him to torment himself further by forcing him to say something she knew irritated him more than anything in the past while.

"Denying that you had an affair," England's eyes flared angrily at her and he downed the rest of the whiskey and reached for the bottle to refill the glass. A slight tremor ran through his body due to the pain of being restrained for god knows how long after essentially being killed making it much harder to pour the precious liquid.

"Need a hand?" Ireland chided but remained unmoved in her seat.

"No, I'm quite fine, now answer the damn question," he growled at her and once he filled the glass to the brim he downed half of it, grimacing at the burning sensation when it hit his still tender throat as it went down.

"Who is it I was supposed to have an affair with?" Ireland looked at him through her copper hair that she let fall over her eyes in an attempt to appear the victim.

"You know damn well who," England snapped back at her.

"England, I'm going to have to stop you there," she tilted her head back to allow the hair to fall away from her eyes. England could see tears forming, blurring his view of the grass green irises. "You keep forgetting that, despite how much you try to change it. I'm Catholic and I will not break my vows, even if my husband is a pure gobshite and is constantly putting me through shit, but that's alright isn't it? After all I'm just someone you can abuse."

England was at a loss for words for a moment and could only stare at her, guilt temporarily eating away at him. That was of course, until he snapped back to reality. In his eyes his wife should remain loyal to him and she had strayed, he had to correct her even if she didn't wish to be brought back in line.

"No, you're my wife and I'm just trying to ensure you are the perfect lady who I can be proud of," England muttered, his past confidence lost temporarily. "Now, I apologise for accusing you of having an affair. It was... crass of me and I shouldn't have believed the rumours. I know how important marriage is to you." He lifted his eyes to meet hers and marvelled at the smile she sent him, it was soft, relieved almost.

"Never thought I'd hear you apologise," she told him and took a sip of her rum, she sighed when she noticed the glass almost empty and reached forward to refill it. As she did so, she continued their conversation from earlier, "now tell me why you need my help."

"I need your help regaining control of a port I once had full access to, it appears that recently pirates have taken over and cast out my men or bought the rest they didn't kill," England explained quickly now content they were on a non turbulent conversation.

Ireland took her time considering her answer, carefully weighing up the pros and cons until she finally came to a decision.

"Fine, I'll help you but we do things my way. Now what port?"

At this England stood up and walked over to a table teeming with maps. Glancing over the assorted scrolls quickly he pulled one out of the pile and cleared a space on the table before unrolling it. Stepping back he looked over the intricately detailed sketching of islands and sailing routes before placing his finger on a port on what Ireland could see was already an infamous pirate trading post.

"So who took it from you?"

"Spain," came England's simple answer and Ireland instantly understood why England was so upset over the rumours of an affair she had apparently had. After all, it was supposedly Spain she played away with.


End file.
